


A Thing Called Patience

by xoxoMouse



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Afterlife fic, Angst, Canon Divergence, Death of the Author, EVERYONE LIVES TO OLD AGE, Elysium, Everyone is Dead, Fix It Fic, Fuck Rick Riordan, HoO - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, I Am The Author Now, I Decide How Long They Live, M/M, PJO, ToA - Freeform, Underworld, but like, dont mistake me tho this is a solangelo story, fix it fic?, frazel - Freeform, fuck it, most characters tagged are just mentioned, percabeth, solangelo, some have speaking lines, the 7 - Freeform, they're still alive even though theyre dead, yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxoMouse/pseuds/xoxoMouse
Summary: Nico dies early, way before the rest of his friends. Eventually, they all join him in Elysium--except Will. They're all still waiting for Will.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 9
Kudos: 145





	A Thing Called Patience

**Author's Note:**

> In light of recent events with an unofficial ao3 pocket reader app reposting all of my work there: I post my writing to my tumblr, my wattpad, and this ao3 account. If you see it anywhere else I have not authorized it to be uploaded there. - 2/17/2020, Spencer

Nico di Angelo was not what anyone would describe as a patient person. Maybe it was his decades in the Lotus Hotel, maybe it was the years he spent alone doing whatever he pleased whenever he pleased. Maybe he would have been impatient no matter how his life had unfolded. Regardless, he _hated_ to wait. This was information widely known to the public. So of course his boyfriend of the last decade and a half was aware that he was not going to be chipper when he showed up for their date-night forty-five minutes late.

Nico checked his phone again. “Not even a text?” He grumbled. “What the fuck, Will.” This never happened. He was half convinced to go look for him himself when he saw it.

The door of Orpheus: Open. It was plain as day, maybe 25 yards down from the meetup spot he and Will had set in Central Park. There were little kids playing near the entrance, completely oblivious to the monster that was watching them hungrily, its long green tongue darting out to lick over its pointed teeth and thin lips. The scene was set: Three young, unknown, unclaimed demigods; a loose monster; and Nico di Angelo, son of hades, practically able to swallow the aura of death in the air with how thick it was.

Of course he helped. _Of course_ he did. It wasn’t even a question—and he’d do it again. Even though…Well, in hindsight, a death cloud that large _probably_ wasn’t for a legacy of Tyche and her two mortal playmates. He found out who he saved…after.

No, no, that aura of death was probably for him. Well. Hindsight is 20/20.

Yeah, uh, being dead was not Nico’s thing. At least not the way his dad wanted him to be dead. Like, oh, stay inside the palace; be nice to Persephone; stop giving Cerberus treats, you’ll spoil her dinner. It was like he was a teenager again! Newsflash: He hadn’t been a camper for a _long_ time now. Not that _that_ mattered to an immortal.

Luckily for him, sneaking away was never a problem in the domain of shadows. Over time (which drug on for unbearably long in this place) he developed a reputation. He made some friends, he made some bribes, he got some blackmail. After a while there wasn’t any land under his father’s control he didn’t have complete access to. He was the most powerful ghost in the underworld—but he was still a _ghost._ Which he didn’t care for very much, if he was telling the truth. He’d spent so much of his teen years wanting to die, wanting everything to be quiet and peaceful. To tell the truth, being a ghost was a lot the same as being alive—except now he didn’t have to worry about the night terrors and the annoying prophetic dreams. The worst part about being a ghost was leaving everyone behind.

And no matter how many strings he pulled, he never managed to get Iris to let him call the living. Without an expert on death at camp, no one summoned him. Well, Hazel _tried_ to contact him. Or she used to before Hades told her she was directly forbidden and made her swear on the Styx she wouldn’t attempt it again. He and Nico had a very long, very loud discussion over that one.

But he was able to watch. Not right away, it took _forever_ to figure out how to. By the time he did, though, everyone had gray hairs. (Percy and Annabeth even more so.)

Everyone had survived. ( ** _Wow.)_** And everyone had moved on. Which stung. But mostly it was nice.

Even Will. Seeing him with the kids at camp, the ones he’d adopted, with their old friends, with the guys he dated on and off. (Yeah, whatever. Nico was dead and his old boyfriend had good taste. He ‘checked in’ every once in a while.)

By the time someone _finally_ died, (No offense Jason) he was _starved_ for someone who remembered what a meme was.

Elysium. One by one, they all got Elysium. Of course they did. And every single one of them deserved it. Their generation had stopped Gaea. The gods owed them, big time. (Which Nico _frequently_ reminded them. Particularly when Clovis got Asphodel. Not on _his_ sundial.)

Gods, though, it felt like Will was outliving them _all._ Annabeth was the one who pointed out how morbid this was, being the most recently deceased and also the one who had kept them all in line for, well…their entire living lives.

Percy just rolled his eyes affectionately and pulled her in close. “I waited six years, Wisegirl—and it was hell. Nico’s on, what is it now, Ghost King?”

Nico carved into a stone with a Draken sword from his last visit to Bob.

“Oh, y’know, only about sixty-seven years, three months, seven days and thirteen hours.” He winked at her. “But who’s counting?”

She nodded. “Yikes. I see what you mean.”

“This sucks!” Leo whined. “This is what dead people do? Just wait for their friends’ living exes to die?”

“Okay, okay, Valdez. One: technically we’re not exes, so jot that down. And _Two:_ go enjoy your hero’s afterlife. I’ve been doin’ my own thing for a long time and I’m content to wait. On my own.”

Leo snorted. “What a fuckin lie.”

Nico was about to kill Leo again when Frank knocked shoulders with him. Frank didn’t even put much force behind it but it still almost knocked Nico over. “He’s right, bud, patience is no virtue of yours.”

He huffed. “At least in that stupid hotel, I didn’t _know_ I was missing everything.”

He looked around him at his friends in varying states of age. Most of them looked how they did when they died. Jason had just the hints of crow’s feet around his icy blue eyes, Hazel’s hair was snow-white next to Frank’s salt and pepper gray. Piper’s long, faded gray hair was braided down her back; Annabeth had wrinkles as deep as the Styx—and Percy still looked like he did the day their daughter Sally was born, a fresh 28. Why the hell he picked to look like that, he wouldn’t say. Personally, Nico felt like he earned his short amount of years. He tried walking around as a teenager once and he damn near lost his mind. He internally whined. He didn’t even get all the tattoos he wanted before he died.

He stood up and started down the hill to the residency of Elysium. “Come on, Clovis is having a BBQ today. Will’s like, 90 something now. He’s probably staying alive just to spite me.”

They followed him, but their silence was everything. Will was it now. Everyone he ever knew his age was dead—he was living _for_ them, not to spite them.

***

But of course, the moment Nico _wasn’t_ waiting for him to croak is when he chose to do it. In fact, he only found out Will was dead when he barged into Elysium, fists on his hips and a scowl on his face. Nico didn’t recognize him at first. This wasn’t the Will he’d been watching, the one with the snowy hair, deep smile lines, and skin that was loose over his knuckles. No, this was…This was Will exactly as he’d looked the last time Nico saw him: Golden hair messy, freckles standing out against his tan skin still fresh from Summer, and his pale blue button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone and the tie loose around his collar. He was supposed to be going for an interview at Mount Sinai General hospital. Nico had tightened his tie, kissed him goodbye that morning and…well, never saw him again. Obviously.

“What the _hell_ di Angelo?” Will scolded him after storming into Percy and Annabeth’s house. No ‘hello’, no pleasantries, he didn’t even look at of his other friends in the room. (Because of _course_ Will died on the monthly Argo II reunion day.)

“You’ve been here the _whole_ time? And not a word! Not a sign! Nothing!” He continued. Apparently, after almost 7 decades, they were picking up exactly where they left off.

“Oh yeah, and _who,_ exactly was late for date night?” He shot back. “Don’t even try it, Solace. I’m dead, not senile—I remember everything and you are in _trouble._ ”

Will frowned like he’d forgotten Nico never accepted his sass the way everyone else did. Still, Will couldn’t force himself to actually be mad at him, not for a moment.

“I missed you.

Nico let a smile peek through his mask of frustration. “I know.

“I was picking out a ring,” He confessed, a guilty smile on his face. “That’s why I was late. It was being engraved.” He tossed Nico a simple black box from the pocket of his slacks. Nico barely managed to catch it, a dumbstruck look on his face.

Will acknowledged the fact that they were in a room of like, ten people for the first time since he arrived. “Sally handled the funeral rights,” he told Percy and Annabeth. “She misses you.” He turned to Hazel and Frank. “And Jason made sure the ring was in my pocket—she’s assisting on a dig for her geology thesis. You would be so, so proud.”

They nodded. Of course they would—they already were.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute,” Nico interrupted. “Exactly how many of you knew about this?”

Will laughed. “All of them. And because they all kept the surprise, I’ll let them live. Well…You know what I mean.” He winked.

“Oh my gods.” Nico sunk to the floor, holding the fit-in-the-palm-of-your-hand sized velvet box to his chest. “I can’t believe this. And none of you _told_ me?”

Will sat down beside him. “I made them promise on the Styx—I know how hard it is to keep secrets from you.”

Of course. _Of course_ Will Solace would end his life as the most dramatic fucker ever—waiting six plus to propose to a ghost.

Will gently took the box from his fingers and removed a plain silver ring with cursive black etching. **_‘I’ll love you forever and a day.’_**

He pulled a chord out of the collar of his shirt. It held years of camp beads—and a silver ring. **_‘W & N, 2009 - ∞’ _**

Will laughed to himself. “I didn’t even need the engraving changed. It was perfect—and I meant it.” He shook his head. “Charon _almost_ took yours as payment. Sorry for namedropping, I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Ghosts could cry. Nico was well aware of this as he buried his face in Will’s shoulder, Will holding his hand in his as he slipped the cool band onto the ring finger of his left hand. Will’s chest wasn’t warm like he remembered, neither of them had bodies anymore—but he was solid and present and he was _there_ and that was even better.

“I never forgot about you,” Will whispered.

Nico took his face in his hands and kissed him slowly, sweetly, in a way that said everything they were thinking: _I know. I forgive you. I love you. I love you so, so, so much that not even death and an entire lifetime apart could change that._

_You were worth the wait._

**Author's Note:**

> Would anyone want a sequel to this from Will's POV? (Probably gonna write it either way.)


End file.
